Adrian Moore never imagined that his death would be the beginning of something else.
He died in the living world in a meaningless accident: a subway train derailed, and a shard of glass pierced his heart. But his consciousness did not fade. Instead, it plunged into an endless gray-white corridor.
There was no ceiling, no walls, only corpses.
They were packed together in countless layers, stretching from beneath his feet to the edge of his sight. They wore clothes from different eras: Victorian tailcoats, Republic-era gowns, futuristic armor, medieval robes... Every corpse had its eyes open, its pupils frozen in the last moment of fear or resentment.
This was the Terminal Gallery: a dumping ground for time, a morgue for all "murdered histories."
And Adrian discovered that he possessed a unique ability: whenever he met the eyes of any corpse, he would be pulled into that person's final moments and take over their dying body.
He wasn't transmigrating through history.
He was claiming deaths.
Theme: The behind-the-scenes mastermind who doesn't want to be the protagonist
